


the mood for you

by Quintessence



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining, can you pine in an established relationship? killua says you can, killua is way too gay to function
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessence/pseuds/Quintessence
Summary: "There have been some very near misses, some moments they’ve almost been together beneath that small sprig of mistletoe, very close and very warm, moments when Killua’s almost been near enough to count Gon’s freckles and see every fleck of gold in his brown eyes, moments when Killua has almost threaded a hand through the hair at the back of Gon’s neck and leaned in closer, closer, closer still.He’s only just avoided it."It's been two months, and Gon hasn't yet kissed Killua.  Which is fine.  Really.  It is.  Or it would be, if it weren't for the mistletoe Aunt Mito's hung in the entryway to the kitchen...Written for the 2019 HxH Christmas Exchange!
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 64
Kudos: 508





	the mood for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avtorSola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avtorSola/gifts).



> i have had the tremendous pleasure of participating in the 2019 hxh christmas exchange & i am so thrilled to finally share my piece!!!! but i am EVEN MORE thrilled that i got to create a gift for avtorsola!!!! sol is such an incredibly sweet person & such a vital part of the hxh fandom!!!! this fic fulfills their “killugon mistletoe shenanigans” request :)
> 
> title is from “game shows touch our lives” by the mountain goats.
> 
> whatever holidays you are celebrating this season, i hope they are happy & wonderful & filled w people you love!!! pls enjoy the fic!!!

Really, there isn’t anything to complain about.

Killua and Gon are together and they’re safe and they’re happy. Gon has taken to putting an arm around Killua’s shoulder when they watch a movie and taking his hand when they walk somewhere together. He smiles whenever Killua enters a room, his whole face lighting up in the most awed, beautiful way, and sometimes he comes home with fresh-picked wildflowers that he gives to Killua with nothing more than a simple, “For you.” Gon tells Killua how beautiful his eyes are in the afternoon sunlight and how being with Killua makes him so happy he feels he can’t fit it all in his body and all other manner of sappy nonsense with such frequency that Killua’s given up on trying to get him to stop. It’s perfect. It’s something out of a storybook. It’s everything Killua’s wanted for years now. So it would be ungrateful--absurdly ungrateful--to ask for anything more.

Which is why Killua wouldn’t dare complain that Gon hasn’t kissed him yet.

Yes, it’s been two months since Gon, softly and earnestly, had confessed his feelings. And yes, Killua lies awake thinking about it more nights than not, about Gon’s hand in his hair or cradling his face and Killua’s arms wrapped insistently around his waist and Gon’s mouth, gentle and urgent all at once, against his own. And yes, the desire aches down to Killua’s bones, down to the very marrow, until it weighs heavy in his every step. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Gon’s happy, that he has what he wants. Killua’s not going to be selfish. He’s not going to demand Gon give any more than he already gives. He’s not going to be ungrateful.

And it’s not like Killua can blame him. He can’t expect Gon to want him the way he wants Gon. Gon is early morning sunrises and bonfires and the flickering flame of a candle. He’s the sort of light and warmth that draws in every creature he encounters. And Killua is just Killua. There’s no comparison. There’s no reason their affection would be anything close to equal. It wouldn’t really be fair, would it?

So Killua takes whatever Gon deigns to give him, gentle touches and whispered endearments and wildflowers. And there’s absolutely nothing to complain about.

* * *

Gon’s home on Whale Island is cozy in a way Killua’s mansion never was. While Killua grew up with high, vaulted ceilings, cold stone walls, and hallways that echoed with screams, Gon’s childhood home looks like something out of a children’s picture book. The windows are framed with fluttery lace curtains. The kitchen table is rough hewn and large enough for plenty of company. The well-worn couch has a knit afghan thrown over the back.

And with the Christmas season, the house is impossibly cozier. There’s almost always something baking in the oven, making the whole house smell of fresh bread or cookies or sweet fruit pies. The Christmas tree fills a corner of the living room, covered in baubles and ornaments and tinsel that gleam in the light. Gon and Killua had strung the white, twinkling lights on the roof just yesterday.

“Isn’t that a nice thing people do?” Gon had said. “It’s the darkest part of the year. The nights are so long. And everyone puts out lights to make it just a bit brighter. It just makes me so happy to think about, how we’re all trying to make the winter a little easier on each other.”

Gods, how Killua had wanted to kiss him then. Had wanted to murmur something about how impossibly perfect Gon was and then bring a hand up to cradle Gon’s skull as gently as if it were a bird’s egg and close his eyes and lean in slowly and…

He hadn’t, of course. Gon clearly doesn’t want it, and Killua would die sooner than have Gon do anything he didn’t want to do. 

But Killua’s already agonizing attempts to abstain from kissing Gon are being made all the more difficult thanks to one of Mito’s decorating efforts. 

It’s the mistletoe, hung in the entryway to the kitchen. Green leaves and small white flowers tied at the stalk with a red ribbon. Killua had only ever seen that sort of thing in movies, didn’t think it actually happened in real life, but apparently it’s tradition in Gon’s house. Aunt Mito had caught Gon under it right after she’d hung it and pulled him, squirming and laughing, close to her side to plant a kiss on his cheek.

So Killua has been very carefully avoiding the entryway to the kitchen for fear of being caught underneath the mistletoe with Gon. He doesn’t think he could bear it, Gon’s obvious discomfort. Perhaps he’d simply smile apologetically and rub the back of his neck and say, “You know, we don’t really have to, Killua,” and Killua would say, “Of course we don’t,” and Gon would say, “Thank you for understanding. Surely you know I’d never want anything like that from you,” and those words would hit like a punch to the gut and Killua would bite his cheek until he tasted blood and say “Don’t worry. I know. It’s fine,” and they’d awkwardly pass by each other, tears of hurt already welling in Killua’s eyes. Or worse, Gon would be forced to kiss him, would scrunch his nose in obvious displeasure and lean forward and just barely press his lips to Killua’s for hardly a moment before hurrying away. And Killua would hate for Gon to have to do something he so obviously he didn’t want to, something that so obviously disgusted him, and the shame would burn like acid in his stomach for the rest of the night.

So Killua has been quite strategic in his trips to the kitchen, ensuring Gon is never in the vicinity when he goes to get a glass of water or fetch a snack from the pantry.

But that timing is becoming increasingly difficult. More and more frequently, Gon enters the kitchen just as Killua’s leaving, lingering for a moment beneath the entryway. Killua, reflexes honed to razor sharpness, immediately stops and turns and pretends to busy himself with something else in the kitchen--putting ice in the water glasses or cleaning a dish left in the sink--until Gon finally leaves. There have been some very near misses, some moments they’ve almost been together beneath that small sprig of mistletoe, very close and very warm, moments when Killua’s almost been near enough to count Gon’s freckles and see every fleck of gold in his brown eyes, moments when Killua has almost threaded a hand through the hair at the back of Gon’s neck and leaned in closer, closer, closer still.

He’s only just avoided it.

And of course it hurts, Gon not wanting him. Killua would be lying if it he said it didn’t. But that’s always been the story of the two of them, hasn’t it? Killua, trailing desperately behind Gon, aching for just a flicker of his light and warmth, craving a smile or a gentle touch, doing his utmost not to outright beg for anything, anything at all. Killua, he’s the moon--the only light he’s ever given off has been a reflection of Gon’s.

“Dance with me,” Gon says, breaking Killua from his reverie. Killua is curled up on the couch, afghan thrown over his legs, fire crackling, with one of Aunt Mito’s old Christmas records playing in the corner.

“What?” Killua says.

“Dance with me,” Gon repeats, smiling and extending a hand down to Killua.

Yes, Killua’s never danced. Yes, he’s likely to step on Gon’s feet and ruin the whole thing. But the fire reflects in Gon’s eyes and he looks so strangely shy and it’s a chance for Killua to be near to him. So he knows he can’t refuse.

“Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

Gon grins, suddenly even brighter than the fire, and pulls Killua to his feet.

“Here,” he says. “You’re a bit shorter than I am, so you put your hand here.”

He brings Killua’s hand to rest on his shoulder and all of Killua’s insides suddenly disappear, leaving him thrillingly empty.

“And I put my hand here,” Gon continues, his hand coming to Killua’s waist and pulling him a bit closer. It makes his hand on Gon’s shoulder feel like nothing, Gon holding him so close like this. The whole room spins and it’s only Gon’s hand anchored on him that keeps Killua’s knees from buckling.

“And then we hold our hands together like this.” He grasps Killua’s hand in his own.

Killua prays Gon doesn’t expect him to talk while they’re dancing. He’s quite certain he’s completely lost the ability to speak.

“And then we dance,” Gon says brightly, beginning to move in time to the music. Killua does his best to keep up, but he’s having trouble moving his body with any semblance of coordination.

They can’t possibly still be in Gon’s living room. Surely they’re suspended in the air, completely weightless, feet far above the ground. Gravity no longer exists, not with the two of them this close together, swaying in time to the music.

“You’re a little red,” Gon teases. Killua’s face gets even warmer.

“Yeah, well, you’re, uh, you’re very close,” Killua manages.

“Mmhm,” Gon says. “I like it.”

Killua would snap at Gon that he can’t just  _ say  _ things like that, honestly, Gon, if Killua were capable of speech.

“Do  _ you _ like it?”

The room spins.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Good,” Gon says, smiling.

Killua can’t bear to look into Gon’s eyes when they’re standing inches apart like this, so he stares quite determinedly down at his feet as they dance. Killua’s barefoot and Gon’s in socks, the pair with the hole in the left toe. It’s quite suddenly charming, Gon in his worn socks, dancing with Killua in the living room to an old record. Killua imagines how the two of them must look, so very close together, dancing in their pajamas by the light of the fire, and it seems far too beautiful to be real.

Killua is so close to resting his head on Gon’s shoulder. It’s a far bolder action than he usually takes, but Gon’s hair is still slightly damp from the shower and Killua can’t help but imagine that he smells like shampoo and laundry detergent. His shoulder would be solid and warm beneath Killua’s head. Perhaps he’d lean down and press a kiss to Killua’s hair, and maybe Killua would lean up, and look right into his eyes, and Gon would smile, and…

Killua has two sudden realizations.

The first: they’ve stopped dancing.

The second: they’ve stopped right beneath the entryway to the kitchen. Right beneath the small sprig of mistletoe.

Killua stiffens, heart leaping into his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, still staring at their feet.

Gon strokes his waist, where his hand still rests.

“What? Why are you sorry?”

Killua’s face gets unbearably hot. He’s an idiot, so caught up in the euphoria of dancing with Gon that he’d inadvertently lead them right into the situation he’s been so carefully avoiding. How unforgivably stupid can he be?

“I didn’t realize where we were,” Killua says hurriedly. “I’ll, um, I’ll just--”

Gently, Gon lifts Killua’s chin to look into his eyes. Killua’s expecting to see some expression anger or disappointment or disgust. Instead, Gon’s eyes are strangely bright and his cheeks are flushed.

“No, Killua, listen,” Gon begins. “I absolutely did realize where we were. And I want to. I really want to. But only if you do.”

It’s a feeling Killua’s never experienced before. Some strange mixture of exhilaration and delight and terror that leaves him breathless and trembling ever so slightly. He’s never experienced it before. And yet he knows exactly what it means. Knows exactly what comes next.

“Um, yeah.” Killua’s voice comes out scratchy, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah. I do. Want to, I mean.”

Gon grins so brightly it’s hard to keep looking directly at him.

“Okay.”

Slowly, Gon brings his hand to thread into Killua’s hair. The other hasn’t moved from his waist, and it pulls him even closer until they’re just inches apart. Killua’s entire body pulses in time to his frantic heartbeat. Without really telling them to, his arms come to loop up around Gon’s neck and, in perfect synchronicity, they close their eyes and lean in.

Kissing, Killua realizes, is a bit like combat. Whatever your training, whatever your skill, at a certain point, your instincts take over. Your body simply knows what to do. When Gon’s lips meet his, Killua doesn’t think, doesn’t wait. Just insistently pulls himself closer to Gon and kisses him.

Gon’s mouth is warm and so are his hands and Killua was right, he does smell like laundry detergent. Killua’s always been told he has good instincts, so he does his best to follow them, slowly moving his mouth against Gon’s. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or if it’s remotely close to being right but it’s hard to think about any of that very clearly with the blood pounding in his ears. And when he presses just a bit more feverishly against Gon’s mouth, Gon makes a small sound in the back of his throat that makes Killua’s knees go weak, so he imagines he can’t be too far off. It’s so good, warming Killua’s entire body and making him shiver all at once and he pulls harder against Gon, trying to get him even closer.

Gon laughs against Killua’s mouth and presses a final, quick kiss to Killua’s lips before pulling back. For a few moments, Killua struggles to open his eyes, breathing hard and still so very close to Gon. Gon laughs again and kisses the tip of his nose before Killua finally manages to look up at him.

Gon is flushed a deep pink and his mouth looks redder and he’s looking at Killua with an expression Killua can’t quite place.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Gon murmurs.

Killua, who, all things considered, is surprised he’s still standing, takes several long moments before he can form a response.

“Really?” he asks, and it comes out far more desperate than he intended.

“Of course. I just… that was my first kiss, you know? And you obviously know what you’re doing. I don’t know. I didn’t want to look as clueless as I really am.”

Killua’s head is still spinning. What Gon’s saying doesn’t make any sense.

“Why would I know what I’m doing?”

Gon’s brow furrows.

“Well, you’ve done this before. So I--”

“No I haven’t,” Killua interrupts. He’s very confused and the frantic pounding of his heart isn’t helping much. “Why do you think I’ve done this before?”

“I mean, you’re you,” Gon says, somewhat nonplussed. “Obviously you’ve kissed people before.”

“No, I haven’t. What does that even mean, ‘you’re you?’”

Gon blinks.

“You… that was your first kiss too?” Gon says slowly.

“Of course it was!” Killua snaps, suddenly somewhat offended. “Who do you think I’d have kissed sooner than you, you idiot?”

Gon throws his head back and laughs.

“Well, we’ve both officially crossed ‘first kiss’ off the list. How about trying our hand at a second?”

He takes Killua’s face in his hands and kisses him, just this side of desperate, just this side of helpless.

“And a third?” he murmurs, kissing Killua again.

“And a fourth?”

“A fifth?”

“A sixth?”

“Yes. Gon. As many as you…  _ Yes _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so very much for reading!!!! if you drop a comment, know it will be deeply appreciated & you will receive a reply w a frankly absurd amount of punctuation marks. also, i'm very very active on [tumblr](https://storybookprincess.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to pop by!!!!
> 
> happy holidays, y'all!!!!! xo


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